Silver Angel (28 page)

“A
re you feeling better now?”

Chantelle stopped Adamma from fussing with her pillows and motioned her to leave. Rahine sat on the other side of the bed. It was she who had made the inquiry.

“I’d hate to tell you what I really feel like, madame.”

Rahine smiled at the surly tone. “Much better, I’d say.”

Chantelle started to glower but didn’t want to waste the effort. She felt like her insides had been wrung out to dry. There was a horrible taste in her mouth, every bone seemed to ache, and she was as weak as a kitten. But this was nothing compared with how she had felt earlier. At least Rahine was speaking English for a change, so she didn’t have to tax herself by translating.

“Did you come here to pay your last respects?”

Rahine laughed outright. “Don’t be absurd, child. You’ll be as good as new in a few days.”

Chantelle closed her eyes against such good humor. No one should be cheerful while she felt so miserable, at least not in her presence.

“Am I to take it you’re glad I’m still among the living?”

“Very glad, Shahar. I don’t know what it is about you, but you have completely changed Jamil, and for that I thank you. It’s almost as if I have my son back.”

“I wasn’t aware you had lost him.”

“That’s a…long story, and nothing for you to be concerned with.”

That evasion should have aroused Chantelle’s curiosity, but she had other things on her mind. “Did I dream it, or was Jamil here?”

“He was here most of the afternoon.”

“But I thought he never enters the harem.”

“You will allow the circumstances are unusual, my dear. It’s the first time one of his women has ever been poisoned.”

So much for thinking he might care for her more than he did for any of his other women. “How did I get to be so lucky?”

“It’s doubtful we will ever know who wished you harm, but you needn’t fear it will happen again. Your food will come from my own kitchen from now on, and Haji Agha has assigned you two of his own bodyguards. You will never be left entirely alone.”

“Wonderful,” Chantelle said bitterly. “More the prisoner than ever.”

“You mustn’t look at it that way.”

“No? I should be grateful, I suppose, that someone wants me dead?”

She would never be able to escape now, but worse, she wasn’t sure she wanted to, not after last night. She didn’t want Rahine to know that, however, not after she had predicted just that happening. Chantelle didn’t have the temperament to hear a smug “I told you so.”

How had Jamil done it? How had he gotten around her anger and hurt and made her want him again? And so much! Dear Lord, they had made love all night long. After how close he had come to death, it was as if
she
couldn’t get enough of him. If anyone had been ready to beg for mercy, it was Jamil.

She should be utterly ashamed, but she wasn’t. At some point during the night, she had forgiven him for Jamila, and he had assured her it wouldn’t happen again. She would believe him because she wanted to, because she wanted him. It couldn’t be any simpler than that. Like a silly twit in love, she had gone and become contented with her enslavement. Was she in love? Good Lord, that would be a ridiculous thing to do. Love a man who owned forty-eight women? Best not to delve too deeply into
that
.

Then Chantelle was reminded that during all those pleasant hours she had spent with him last night, she had never gotten around to asking him about the attempt on his life. Was it related to her own near brush with death?

“—don’t you think?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I said you should be grateful you’re still alive. It was very close for a while today.”

Chantelle made a face. “I was there, remember?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you don’t make a very good patient?”

Chantelle finally smiled grudgingly. “Am I being especially trying, Rahine?”

“And impertinent.”

“No one else is around,
madame
.”

Rahine had to suppress her laughter this time. “You are incorrigible. Very well, you may call me Rahine—when no one else is around.”

“Then will you call me Chantelle—when no one else is around?”

“You are supposed to forget your previous life,” Rahine began but was quickly interrupted.

“Did you?”

“I—think you need your rest.”

“Not yet.” Chantelle sat up more against her pillows. “First tell me who that man was last night who tried to kill Jamil.”

“We’ll never know that.”

“Then you don’t know why he attacked him?”

Rahine stared at her for a moment in amazement. “Do you mean to say…but you must have heard
something
about Jamil’s troubles since you have been here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I mentioned it to you myself, didn’t I, the night you drove him to recklessly leave the palace? I told you he had put his life in danger.”

“That’s all you told me. But I beg to differ that I
drove
him to leave the palace that night,” Chantelle added tightly. “I’m not responsible for his hot temper.”

“Whether you were or not is a moot point now. But he
was
set upon that night. It was inevitable, since they watch the palace constantly. By Allah’s grace, however, Jamil wasn’t harmed that time. Even without a weapon, he disarmed one assassin, and the other was too cowardly to face him alone.”

“Assassins? This sounds like a conspiracy,” Chantelle said in alarm.

“So it is, and it began nearly a half year ago with the first attempt on Jamil’s life. There have been numerous attacks since then. Twice now they have even gotten as far into the palace as his private apartment. Whoever wants him dead seems to have an endless supply of fanatics willing to brave impossible odds to collect the promised reward.”

“Then you don’t know who it is?”

Rahine shrugged. “Everything points to Selim, Jamil’s younger half brother, because he went into
hiding about the time of the first attack and he still hasn’t been found.”

“Fratricide?” Chantelle frowned in distaste. “That’s—”

“Fairly common in the Turkish empire, my dear, where children are exposed early to the rivalries and petty jealousies of the harem. But as I said, everything points to Selim. That doesn’t mean that it couldn’t be someone else, although Selim
is
next in line to succeed Jamil.”

“But Jamil has sons,” Chantelle pointed out, though
that
subject wasn’t one of her favorites.

“True, but they are all much too young. This is not England, child. A brother who has reached manhood will nearly always be chosen over a son too young to rule. Of course, there have been extreme cases in which a mother has bought the support of the army to elevate her son, but that has never happened in Barikah.”

“Then Sheelah—”

“Never Sheelah!”

Chantelle frowned at the interruption and obvious support for Jamil’s first wife by his mother. But then her eyes widened.

“Noura has the second oldest son, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, but…that is ridiculous, Shahar—”

“Chantelle.”

Rahine pursed her lips. “Very well—Chantelle. Speculation of this sort is pointless. And besides, Jamil has yet another half brother under Selim. Do you realize how many would have to die before Noura could come to power through her son? It would be much too obvious, even if the other deaths could be made to appear accidental, especially if Jamil should die first.”

A chill passed over Chantelle, hearing it said so plainly. If Jamil should die…. She hadn’t known he was in such danger.

“I wish you hadn’t told me about this.”

Rahine shrugged. “You asked, child. But I really thought you knew about it already. Why do you think we were so intent on keeping you from angering Jamil? His temper has been abominable these past months due to the restrictions imposed on him by this threat.” Rahine leaned over to squeeze Chantelle’s hand. “We have you to thank for taking his mind off it, even if you have done so in an unacceptable manner. ”

Chantelle knew very welt she was referring to her defiance, even up to last night. Did Rahine also know it had ended last night? Of course she did. She knew everything.

Cheeks heating with color, Chantelle was ready to change the subject. Rahine did it for her. “I really shouldn’t have stayed this long. You are to have complete bed rest for a week—”

“A week!”

Rahine couldn’t help smiling. “At the very least, several days without exception.”

“Jamil isn’t going to like that.”

“How so?”

Chantelle looked away in embarrassment before answering. “He promised me he wouldn’t summon anyone else.”

Rahine’s brow shot up because she knew Jamil was dining with Sheelah at this precise moment. How could he possibly have made such a promise? But to be fair, he hadn’t exactly broken it. He hadn’t summoned Sheelah but had gone to her instead. Had he thought no one would know of it just because he could
reach his wives’ apartments without entering the main harem?

When Rahine said nothing, Chantelle glanced back at her. “Does he keep his promises, Rahine?”

“When at all possible, yes, of course he does.” What else could she say?

D
erek gently cradled the infant in his arms. It was getting easier. He could even smile now about how nervous and out of his element he had felt the first time he had held one of the babies, and there were three still in swaddling.

Rather than disrupt the harem as he had done today, over the past weeks he had had Jamil’s children brought to his apartment in groups of two and three at a time. Getting to know his nieces and nephews had relieved the tedium of the long afternoons when his lack of activity was most acutely felt, but he surprised even himself by how much he enjoyed the time spent with them.

The little girl in his arms had flaming red hair like her mother’s, and bright emerald eyes. She was adorable, but then all of Jamil’s children were. And what was so fascinating about them was that Derek could see himself in each one. His own children would look like this, especially like those who most resembled Jamil. And if he had been born first, instead of a few minutes after Jamil, he would likely have just as many children by now, instead of none.

It was ironic and lamentable that he was being coerced into marriage to get just one great-grandson for Robert Sinclair when Jamil had given him sixteen great-grandchildren, four of them sons, but none of which the Marquis could officially acknowledge without bringing the scandal of Melanie Sinclair’s enslavement down on his name. England thought that Lady
Melanie was dead. Rahine had long since given up that name.

But that was beside the point, and he was experiencing a moment of bachelor’s indecision, was all. It was time he married. “Lamentable” was much too harsh a word for it, and only his long years of delightful lechery making a last protest. And he hadn’t truly been coerced. He hadn’t even protested overmuch, not with Caroline as the obvious, compatible choice.

With his copper-haired Caro as the mother, his own daughters could look exactly like the infant he was holding. In a complete reversal of mood, he decided he couldn’t wait. And then he wondered what his and Shahar’s children would look like, and he frowned. Jamil possessed no blond concubines, so he could make no comparisons for likeness. And he shouldn’t have had the thought in the first place.

“Are you still worried about her?”

Derek glanced up to find Sheelah staring at him, and he quickly smoothed out his features. “Not at all.” He handed the baby back to her nurse. “I have been assured Shahar will make a complete recovery.”

“I’m glad.”

She was sincere, he realized. What an amazing difference between her and his little English, who stubbornly denied her jealousy even as she seethed with it. Sheelah truly accepted Jamil’s other women. She would accept anything if it made him happy.

Bloody hell. He should never have let Omar convince him that he couldn’t continue to ignore Sheelah without arousing suspicion. She would expect him to stay and make love to her tonight. He wasn’t about to get anywhere near her. Nor could he allow the two of them to be left alone together, even for a moment. That was why her three children were present, as well
as their nurses. He refused to let them leave. He wanted witnesses so that Jamil could have no doubts that Derek had stayed here only for dinner.

But Sheelah wasn’t going to understand. She knew Shahar was unavailable tonight. He was here. To her way of thinking, he had no reason to leave. So when he did leave, she was going to be hurt.

Damn Omar for putting him in this situation. “Sheelah, I thank you for the superb dinner, but I—I must go now.”

“No, wait!” She came around the table so quickly, she was practically in his lap before he could stop her. “Let me help you, Jamil. Your distress is my own.”

“I know that,” he replied, gently taking her hand from his cheek and returning it to her lap. “But I cannot—”

She pressed her lips to his. He drew back instantly, panicking in the worst way. The nurses giggled across the room. Sheelah misunderstood.

“I’ll send them away—”

“No! What I mean is—” He collected himself with an effort. “I don’t want this, Sheelah, not tonight.”

“Not to—”

She didn’t finish, her large sapphire eyes widening, her mouth dropping open. What the devil had he said, Derek wondered, to get this reaction? And it was worse than he thought.

“You are not Jamil,” she said in an incredulous whisper. “Who are you?”

Bloody hell. “Are you mad, woman?”

Sheelah bowed her head, contrite. “I’m sorry, my beloved. Forgive—” Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing. “No, you are
not
Jamil. I know the man
I love with all my heart too well. He comes to me for comfort. You refuse—”

“Be quiet,” he hissed. “Do you know what kind of rumors you could start with such nonsense? Look at me and tell me who else I could be.”

“I don’t know.” Tears were gathering in her eyes. “Just tell me—tell me he is not—”

Derek put a finger to her lips. He glanced at the others in the room, but they were still far enough away not to have overheard. He looked back at Sheelah, his expression softening. Damn women’s intuition. He couldn’t leave it like this.

“You have nothing to be distressed about. Nothing. Will you believe that, Sheelah?”

She nodded and rose with him to walk him to the door. “I do not understand.”

“You will. Just be patient and all of your questions will have answers.” And then he gathered her close for a moment. She was his sister-in-law after all. “You know you are loved, Sheelah. Have faith in that.”

She gave him a hesitant smile in parting, enough to convince him he had relieved her mind, if not her suspicions.